


It Will Come Back

by Purplesauris



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Open Relationships, Some light angst, ace!Eskel, and i am here to provide for him dammit, eskel needs LOVE, established geralt/jaskier, mentions of lambert/geralt, not going to put it in the relationships though because that isnt the focus, we are here to yearn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28029291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplesauris/pseuds/Purplesauris
Summary: Eskel is content to be on his own. The travel alone, and have no one for company. Until Jaskier.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 17
Kudos: 101





	It Will Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about my boy Eskel for too long and wanted to give him love, as well as explore him as a character a bit. This might end up becoming a little mini series, depending on if I decide to write more!

He’s fine on his own. It’s an easy mantra to chant when he’s kicked from another tavern, or when someone only pays him half of what they agreed. He enjoys his life, wandering the Continent and never settling anywhere, for anyone. He takes the contracts he’s given, eats and sleeps when and where he can, and goes up to see his family in the winter. He is content, never needing anyone other than his family, and never wanting anything from anyone they clearly aren’t willing to give.

Until Jaskier. They’d met once, fleetingly in a bar when Jaskier was wildly drunk and Eskel brought him back to his room. He’d thought of him since, the kind young man who’d patted his arm and thanked him before vomiting at his feet. When he sees him, years upon years later, racing ahead of Geralt and cheeks red from the cold, his heart had given a discordant twang in his chest. He wasn’t sure what the feeling was, and didn’t like it, but Jaskier had taken him by the arms, grip firm, and had recognized him after only a second of looking at him. 

Then, Geralt had come down reeking of the warm, dusky scent of love, and Eskel had understood what that feeling was. He’d tucked the feeling away, drank with his brothers, and forgot all about it. Until the next time he’d seen Jaskier of course, and every time after that. Watching the two of them was hard at first; he’d seen spouses interacting before, the love some had held for each other, and he’d seen couples who raged and hated as passionately as they’d once loved. This was different- each glance was an all consuming inferno, each harsh word softened with the love that the two of them reeked of. He’d pretended to be busy more often than not that winter, both to give them space and to clear his head. 

He needed no one, and was content to remain that way. When the snows had finally cleared and given way to spring Eskel had set out alone, waving goodbye to his brothers and letting Jaskier squeeze him in a hug that he didn’t want to pull away from. The Path welcomed him as it always did, with a solitary breeze and the sound of Scorpion following obediently alongside him. He was fine on his own. 

-*-

The bar is loud tonight, the air stifling with the press of too many bodies, but Eskel sits among the crowd and drinks his ale. No one sits at his table and that’s how he likes it- the barmaid hardly stops long enough to give him his drink, fear clinging to her like a dress. Eskel makes sure to leave his coin far enough away that she can skitter back later to snatch it up. He’s only here for the night anyhow; he’s after a contract near Oxenfurt for what he suspects is a leshen killing in the forest, and when the others wake tomorrow, hungover, Eskel will be gone. He’s fine on his own, he reminds himself, and downs the rest of his ale. He hasn’t drunk nearly enough to make his head spin or really affect him, but pretending, blending into the crowd makes him feel more human, and he’s willing to waste coin on watered down ale for tonight. 

He waves the barmaid away when she comes back, pitcher clutched in her shaking hands, and decides to head to bed. A hand touches his shoulder before he can get up, featherlight and sliding between the spikes on his pauldrons. Eskel’s heart leaps into his throat, and thankfully the din of the crowd is enough to hide his uncomfortable growl. 

“Fancy seeing you here, wolf.” The voice is achingly familiar, and his eyes track Jaskier’s lithe movements as he plops into the seat across from him, grinning. The warmth has done him well- his hair curls attractively at the nape of his neck, damp, and Eskel averts his eyes respectfully so as not to stare. 

“Jaskier, I thought you two went west.” He looks back up only once he’s certain he won’t stare, and he finds Jaskier watching him, smiling. “Where is Geralt?”

“Hunting.” Jaskier’s voice is light, but Eskel nearly chokes on the washed out scent of his worry. “I, on the other hand, had a performance in Oxenfurt.”

“What are you doing here, then?” Eskel forces neutrality into his tone, polite interest at most, and sees Jaskier’s lips twitch down momentarily before that grin is back. 

“Geralt isn’t fond of the city, so we meet here.” Jaskier motions to the barmaid, smiling graciously and winking when she brings him an ale. She giggles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and Jaskier tilts his head, whispering something to her. Her gaze flicks toward Eskel for a second, losing some of its warmth, and Eskel feels it like a physical blow. He doesn’t react though, merely toys with the empty cup in front of him and ignores the two until the barmaid has left again. Jaskier sighs dramatically when she walks away, downing half his drink and leaning back in his chair. Eskel tilts his head, raising a brow, and Jaskier sighs again. 

“What?” He can tell when Jaskier wants to say something, but Jaskier merely shakes his head and smiles. 

“Thinking is all. What brings  _ you  _ here? I would have though you’d be further east by now.” Jaskier sips at his ale as Eskel talks, blue eyes trained on his face, attention solely on him. Warmth blooms in his chest, and he shrugs weakly.

“There’s a contract nearby for a leshen, so I though I’d take it before moving on. Scorpion could use new shoes.” 

“Geralt said the same thing when we got down the mountain. You witchers and your horses.” Jaskier’s voice is fond, and though he knows it isn’t for him, a small part of him clings to the words. The barmaid comes back to fill Jaskier’s cup, and Jaskier turns his attention to her. Eskel watches the easy way that they interact, the hand she lays on his upper arm, and his neck burns. Something that she says though upsets Jaskier, and he murmurs quietly before shaking his head and sending her away with a handful of coin. 

“Something wrong?”

“It appears that I’ll be headed back to Oxenfurt after all. They’re full up for the night.”

“Stay with me.” The words escape him before he can choke them back, and Jaskier’s eyes widen before he beams. 

“You’re too kind, dear, but I couldn’t impose.” He’s being given an out- Eskel should take it, knows it, but his traitorous heart whispers different things to him. 

“It isn’t imposing. I’m only here for the night, and you can have the room when I leave.” Jaskier considers him quietly, fingers drumming against the tabletop, and smiles. 

“You’ve saved me again it seems.”

Eskel struggles to keep his cheeks from going pink, and he clears his throat, letting go of his cup. Someone’s refilled it with ale, but he doesn’t think he could stand to drink anymore right now and he doesn’t want to anyhow. What he wants is to go to bed, and be gone in the morning before Jaskier wakes. Jaskier seems to see the way his shoulders droop, and he stands up, leaving his half empty cup on the table as he nods toward the stairs. Eskel leads him from the common area without complaint, and up to his-  _ their  _ room. The room is dark when Eskel steps in, but he navigates it without difficulty and lights the candles in the room with a wave of the hand. Jaskier blinks at the change in light, clutching at his bag and glancing around. Eskel waves for Jaskier to come in fully, undoing the clasp to his sheathes and moving to lean them against the wall. 

He listens but doesn’t watch as Jaskier sets his things down and looks around, trying and failing not to be nosy. Eskel doesn’t have anything in particular he’s hellbent on hiding, so he allows Jaskier his time to snoop and goes about getting out of his armor. There’s the soft click of a tongue, and he turns in time for Jaskier to catch him and turn him back. Jaskier’s fingers work at the clasps easily, and pieces of his armor fall away before he can even protest. Jaskier walks around him in a slow circle, inspecting each piece before setting it aside. Eskel draws the line at getting his chest armor off, nudging Jaskier’s hands away and shucking it off so he’s left in just the plainclothes he wears underneath. Jaskier looks at him approvingly and nods, smiling up at him. Eskel feels himself smiling back before he can think better of it, the motion tugging at his scar. Jaskier’s eyes are soft as they stare at each other, and Eskel can feel Jaskier’s breath on his face and-

Eskel comes back to his senses just as Jaskier goes up on his tiptoes, pressing a featherlight kiss to his lips. He loses his sense just as quickly, body singing with the contact, and he watches more than he feels his hands draw Jaskier closer. He feels Jaskier’s hands slide up his chest, tapping little patterns into his skin as Eskel tilts his head and kisses him deeper. Jaskier melts against his chest, leans into his arms, and Eskel comes crashing back to his body all at once. He jerks back as if burned, a hand flying up to cover his mouth. It’s wrong, what he’s doing. It’s  _ wrong _ and he did it anyway. Jaskier blinks, sways on his feet as Eskel steps back, and he seems confused, watching as Eskel backs up against the door and clutches his medallion, thumb worrying at the pointed nose. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I don’t know what I was doing-”

“Kissing me?” Jaskier still seems confused, and he takes a few steps toward Eskel until he sees the way his hands are shaking. His expression turns soft, sad, and he stops a foot away. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No- yes, I can’t- do that to Geralt.” Eskel isn’t sure what he’s trying to say; his head is spinning and his lips tingle and he can still feel the warmth from Jaskier leaning against him. Understanding blooms in Jaskier’s eyes, and he closes the distance between them, gently taking one of Eskel’s hands and running a thumb over his knuckles. Eskel’s whole world focuses on that point of contact, and he stares as Jaskier talks.

“Geralt knows.” Eskel’s eyes fly up to meet Jaskier’s, searching for the lie he  _ knows _ he must be telling, but Jaskier’s eyes are earnest and lovely.

“I- what?” Jaskier laughs softly and tugs Eskel over to sit down on the bed, taking both his hands now. 

“Eskel, when is the last time someone kissed you? Told you they loved you?”

“Voluntarily?” Jaskier hums an affirmative, and he feels something uncomfortably like sadness squirm in his chest. He’s fine on his own, he reminds himself, though Jaskier’s hands are warm and holding his tight. “I don’t know.” 

“How often do you look at people, wishing you could have what they have, if only for a moment?” Eskel doesn’t respond, iron claws clutching at his chest, and Jaskier continues. “I don’t want you to be lonely anymore.”

“You- don’t have to sleep with me.” It’s the only thing that Eskel can think to say, and Jaskier laughs quietly. 

“While I’ve thought about it, that’s not what I mean. I love him, with all my heart. But Eskel, I won’t deny the way that I feel about you, too. Or ignore the sadness that comes over you whenever you see us together. You’re so sad love, and it breaks my heart.” Jaskier brings Eskel’s hands up and kisses each knuckle gently, watching as Eskel’s lips quiver. 

“It- it doesn’t, bother you two?”

“No, it doesn’t. I couldn’t possibly spend every full moon with him the way he needs, so sometimes, I let Lambert take him for the night, and come back when they’ve both been sated. Seeing him happy, content, makes me happy too.” Jaskier grins then, letting go of a hand to cup Eskel’s cheek. Eskel leans into the touch immediately, closing his eyes as Jaskier’s thumb sweeps gently across his scar. Pleasant tingles shoot over his skin, and he turns to nose against Jaskier’s palm. “If you aren’t comfortable, Eskel, tell me and I’ll never press. I just…”

“I can’t- sleep with you.” His voice shakes and the sound embarrasses him, but Jaskier makes a soft noise in his throat. Eskel looks at him then, and he can feel hot tears stinging at his eyes, but Jaskier merely cups his face in both hands now and kisses the corners of his eyes. “Watching you and Geralt- hurts.”

“It doesn’t have to, love. There’s space for you with us, if you want it. For as long or as short as you want it. And if all you want is kissing, or even just someone to hold your hand, that’s all we have to be. Nothing you don’t want.”

Jaskier can’t kiss his tears away fast enough, and Eskel feels something hard and cold release in his chest. Suddenly he can breathe, and he lets out a small sob. He expects Jaskier to recoil, unsure of what to do with a crying witcher, but Jaskier merely crawls into his lap, tucking Eskel’s face into his neck and petting his hair as Eskel clings tight to him. Jaskier hums a soft little song, rocking slowly, and presses kisses to the side of Eskel’s head. They stay that way for a while, pressing close to each other and sharing in the warmth of their embrace. Eskel’s voice is quiet, muffled against Jaskier’s skin, but Jaskier hears him all the same. “This feels like a dream that I’ll wake up from.”

He yelps suddenly, jerking a bit to the side when Jaskier pinches at his ribs. Jaskier laughs softly, smoothing his hands down Eskel’s shirt and placing a kiss on the corner of Eskel’s mouth. “I would say that proves you’re awake, hmm?”

“No wonder Geralt loves you. Nothing but charm.” He cracks a small, hesitant smile that grows when Jaskier chuckles. This time when they kiss, Eskel is the one to lean in, kissing him slow and sweet. Jaskier relaxes into the kiss, lips warm and familiar, and Eskel feels the bard's fingers dance over his chest. He can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or something he does when he can’t use his hands, but Eskel reaches up to take hold of them. He places one of Jaskier’s hands on his neck and keeps hold of the other one, purring softly when Jaskier’s fingers slip into his hair and scratch lightly at his scalp. Eskel wraps an arm around Jaskier, tugging him a bit closer, and Jaskier sighs against his lips. Eskel loses himself in the way that Jaskier’s lips feel against him, the way he tastes, and Jaskier’s cheeks are ruddy when he pulls back for a breath. Eskel chases him, catching him in another brief kiss, and Jaskier laughs softly.

“Not going anywhere love, just want to get more comfortable. If I shed some clothes, will that make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” Eskel’s chest burns with happiness at the considerate question, and Jaskier slips from his lap to remove most of his clothes. He keeps his smallclothes on, but he comes back and leans down to kiss Eskel softly. 

“You were going to leave tomorrow, right?” Eskel hums an affirmative, and Jaskier presses their foreheads together. 

“Then you need sleep, and that means it’s time for bed.” Eskel considers this and finds no fault in his logic. He strips his own pants off, far too warm, but keeps his shirt on. Something in him doesn’t want to be completely exposed, not now, but Jaskier doesn’t say a word when Eskel blows out the candles. He just holds the blanket up and welcomes Eskel into bed. Eskel lays down next to him, unsure of where to put his limbs or what really to do, but Jaskier has it under control. He tugs Eskel until Eskel’s head is tucked under his chin and one of his arms is thrown over Jaskier’s waist. After a moment of consideration Eskel slides a leg between Jaskier’s and Jaskier hitches his leg up higher so they can lay pressed closer together. He hums softly, finding he likes this, and falls asleep to Jaskier humming a soft tune. 

-*-

“He’s a dream.” Eskel stirs at the sound of Jaskier talking, drifting between waking and dreaming. Calloused fingers card through his hair and he leans up into the touch, purring. There’s a soft laugh and a kiss is pressed to the nape of his neck. There’s someone very warm pressed to his back, spooning him, and someone else sitting on the edge of the bed playing with his hair. His eyes snap open, knowing there were only two of them when he went to bed. There’s a soft shushing sound, and a hand- Jaskier’s- pets over his chest. “Just Geralt, sweetheart. He came back sooner than expected.”

“Coming to bed?” Eskel grinds out, voice hoarse with the sleep still tugging at his limbs. He hears a soft hum from Geralt, the faint rumble of a purr building in the other witcher’s throat. He listens as Geralt’s armor and clothes come off, and then another body is crawling into bed in the dark of a predawn morning. Jaskier grumbles at being squished against the wall, but Eskel purrs loudly and that shuts Jaskier up. Geralt smells like home- of pine forests and snow and metal, and he loops an arm over Geralt’s side as Geralt tucks himself up against Eskel’s chest. Eskel drifts back to sleep pressed between the two lovers, warm and safe, and listens to the beat of Jaskier’s fluttering heart. 

He's sweating when he wakes up. The sun has just broken over the horizon but there are two arms over his waist and two bodies curled around him. Eskel is on his back, Geralt's head on his shoulder and Jaskier's tucked against his neck, and he feels the happiest he has in a long time. Idle fingers draw patterns across his abdomen and up his chest, and he turns to peek at Geralt. The other witcher is awake, probably has been since the sun came up, and Eskel regards him in happy confusion.

"You're okay with this?" He has to hear it again, not wanting this to be some sick joke. A small smile graces Geralt's face, and he scoots a bit closer.

"It was my idea. He worried about you." Eskel turns to look at Jaskier, fast asleep and curled up against his side. Geralt surprises him by continuing, talking low so Jaskier wont wake. "He came to me one day, trying not to cry, telling me he was horrible, but that I wasn't the only witcher he loved."

"Me?" 

Geralt nods. A sleepy voice chimes in then, raspy with disuse but melodious all the same. "He told me that my heart was big, and he knew that from the moment we got together. Big sap. Gave me his blessing to pursue you, as long as that's what you wanted too."

Gentle kisses are placed on the soft skin under his jaw, and Eskel arches his head to the side on instinct. Jaskier hums a thank you and places another smattering of kisses over his neck. "What- is this then?"

"Whatever we want it to be, I suppose." Jaskier murmurs against his throat, going up onto one elbow to look down at him. "Something specific you had in mind?"

"A kiss?" His voice is more timid than he'd expect, but Jaskier chuckles softly and leans down.

"I think that I can manage." 


End file.
